


Journeys End

by LateStarter58



Series: The Felixstowe Sonnets - Tom and Cate [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: A drabble for a friend; part 3 of an on-going story"Journeys end in lovers meeting,Every wise man's son doth know."Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare





	Journeys End

Not really her kind of place. She preferred NYC, or London. Places with depth, substance, history. Places that held memories for her.

Memories of him.

But LA it was, whether she sought it or not, because that is how her life was right now. No matter that she was exhausted, with a million things that needed her attention back on the East Coast. No, this kind of madness was the norm these days. Worn out by travel and stress? Here, take some more and add in five hours on a plane and a two-hour drive for a meeting that could have waited…

Her throat was dry, and it hurt to swallow. No doubt a cold was coming, after all the flights and the endless work, the sudden change in temperature when she got here and no proper sleep for days. Still, there was the hotel up ahead. A nice drink in the bar, maybe something to eat, and then faceplant on the bed. More meetings tomorrow and the redeye home. Then the holidays and all the joyous family craziness they brought.

Perfect.

She was absorbed by her phone so she didn’t see him come in. But something, some instinct made her lift her eyes and turn her head. Had she sensed his presence?

“Darling.”

He glowed. He always seemed to do that. “What…? How…?”

“You told me, remember? Quote: “I’m halfway to LA…” You even mentioned the hotel.”

“But you’re in London.”

“Apparently not.”

“But why…?”

“Work, of course.”

She looked at him, sitting so straight on the stool beside hers. His white shirt hugged his form, his long neck emerging from the open collar, the soft skin so near she could smell it; his eyes crinkled with good humour; his mouth, so sexy; the soft waves of his hair shining in the seductive lighting. He was everything, all of it. The whole of life.

“No, I meant why didn’t you say you were here?”

He chuckled and he raised an eyebrow. “I like to surprise you.”

A half-truth. They had always met by chance, and he was afraid to make plans in case it broke whatever spell it was, this strange magic that kept throwing them together. His hand brushed the back of hers. That was the most they had ever had, a fleeting touch, an ephemeral closeness. But somehow their hearts were entwined, irrevocably.

She swallowed a mouthful of wine and managed to start the semblance of normal conversation. “Where are you staying?”

“I borrowed a little house on the beach.”

“How nice.”

“When do you leave?”

“Another meeting tomorrow, then the overnight flight home.”

They sat, drinks ignored. Eyes only on each other, greedy, desperate, taking what they could. He fought with himself, argued it through, but knew deep down he could not let this pass.

He slipped a piece of paper into her hand. She held her breath and kept her eyes locked on his, and watched as his expression morphed into a plea. Time alone together, that precious treasure that had always eluded them, was now theirs for the taking.


End file.
